Perhaps the sunken cheeks and the protruding cheekbones gave her this impression. She spent a very disagreeable afternoon and evening—it was raining fast outside, and she had very unwisely left her soundest pair of boots in the boothole of her father’s house in Morningside Park—thinking over the economic situation and planning a course of action. "I am innocent, f have stolen nothing. “Lucy. John looked at his feet bashfully. ‘Yes, th-there it is,’ she uttered, stumbling a little over the words.
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